Close Encounters II: Roy's Return
by rockymthigh
Summary: It's Back! Close Encounters II Special Edition.  First five chapters revised and expanded throughout.  Roy, the aliens and many familiar characters return in this sequel to the 1977 film.
1. Chapter 1

**Close Encounters Of The Third Kind II: Roy's Return: The Special Edition**

**DEVIL'S TOWER, WYOMING, 1977**

The little white creature emerged from the ship and walked bi-pedal down the ramp towards Claude Lacombe. He stopped before Lacombe. Lacombe took off his sunglasses as did everyone around him. The light that came from the mothership was blinding, but the humans didn't care. They wanted to see this alien.

Lacombe did the Kodaly hand signals that were representations of the five note sequence they had been using to communicate with earlier. The little alien cocked its' head and repeated the gesture. It meant no harm. Lacombe, David Laughlin (mapmaker turned interpreter), and those around him stared in awe at this creature. They felt a strange peace.

Moments before they had watched in awe as Roy Neary had been picked from a line-up or orange jump-suited men and women hand-picked by the U.S. Army. The little aliens did not want any of them. They swarmed around Roy; they took his hands, they crowded around him and guided towards the ramp that lead to the inside of their ship. He, Roy Neary, was going to go with him.

Roy Neary, who had been consumed by UFOs ever since the night of his close encounter en route to Cornbread, back in Indiana, his home. Roy Neary who had been plagued by the image of a mountain in his potatoes, his shaving cream. Roy Neary, who had built a large scale model of a mountain with a flat top on it, and later realizing after seeing it on the news that it did exist and it had a name: Devil's Tower. Alienating his wife Ronnie, and their children he had gone to Wyoming in search of it. There he had found Jillian Guiler, whom he'd met with her son Barry (he had nearly run him over) the night of his first encounter. She was there to find her son who'd been abducted by these aliens.

Escaping the army's fake quarantine of the area, and crashing through barricades, they'd made their way to the tower. After a rough climb up, they were rewarded by the sight of the runway and temporary buildings that the army had installed for a supposed rendez-vous with some UFOs. "We're the only ones who know – the only ones!" Roy had said gleefully. They were treated to an incredible lightshow followed by the arrival of the immense mother ship. That was followed by a musical conversation started by the five tone signal. Roy had gone down to the runway to see better. Jillian stayed in the rocks. "Barry isn't here. I'm just not ready yet," she said. "I can't stay here. I've got to go down there," he replied and climbed down to the runway.

Lacombe encountered him asked him why he'd come. "What is it you want?" "To know it's all real. That it's all really happening," Roy said. Lacombe went away and proposed Neary's name for consideration to be included in the group of men and women who were possibly going to go with the aliens.

In the meantime, the platform of the mothership opened and the missing pilots of flight 19 from Florida back in '45 came out. They hadn't aged a bit. Others followed including Barry Guiler. Jillian ran to the platform and embraced her son. She wept.

And now Neary walked up the platform. He felt a weightlessness as he did. He began to float. The little alien took a last look at Lacombe and returned to its' ship. The platform closed and ship slowly began to ascend. Scientists and army personnel alike watched in awe as the ship suddenly took off for the outer reaches of space...

Twenty minutes later, army personnel had already begun to dismantle the temporary buildings. Precious rolls of film and audiotape were safely secured and loaded onto helicopters to be delivered to Washington D.C. Lacombe and Laughlin still remained on the runway, their eyes raised to the heaven...

**THE PRESENT, 30 YEARS LATER**

Claude Lacombe awoke from his dream. He looked around him and remembered. He was in the hospital, dying of a brain tumour. He had lost most of his weight. He had very little hair left. He cursed his weakness. He'd been dreaming of that night thirty years ago more often now. And now, he lay in this hospital bed, with the IV needle sticking out from his arm. He could hardly get out of the bed anymore. A pile of scientific magazines littered the bedside table. A half-eaten dinner was left on a tray where it had been pushed aside earlier.

He had hoped for the unthinkable for some time now. He had hoped that Roy Neary might return and that Neary might share the secrets he had learned from his alien friends. He had hoped that maybe the aliens would take him; it was his one last dying wish, but with only a month to live, it was unlikely now to happen.

He had left his scientific government group five years ago, when he first learned of his cancer. But he still knew what was going on on the inside thanks to Laughlin, who'd taken a government job in the geography department. He also had Robert Conneaut, who'd become Lacombe's assistant in his last few years on the job. Conneaut was now heading the French contingent of scientists as Lacombe had done before. He had one more young fellow on the inside of things too. This young man worked for the SETI project listening for signs of life in outer space. A young man whose interest had begun after an experience he'd had as a three-year old.

**LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA**

The young couple were necking in his red Toyota Camry in the middle of a redwood forest just outside of the city limits. At first, they hadn't noticed the lights peaking through the tall trees. The young woman, Claire, caught the glare in her eye. She pulled away from her boyfriend, Daryl.

"Daryl, what is that?" she asked.

"Don't know, don't care," he replied and attempted to resume where he'd left off.

Claire pushed him away. She opened the car door and went out into a clearing. She looked up into the night sky. Star were everywhere out here, away from the light pollution of the city. Claire saw something else in the sky besides stars. There three different lights. One blue, one red, one white. They were moving in a way no plane made on earth could. Her father was a pilot, so she knew a little bit about such things. The lights zigged, and then zagged. Sometimes they went so fast, they left a light trail behind them like a comet or a meteor would.

Daryl was out of the car now.

"What the hell?" he blustered.

From behind the couple came yet another light. Claire felt her blonde hair blowing around into the wind it created. The light blinded them. And then like a light switch being turned off, the light was gone.

Claire and Daryl stared at each other, both with blank expressions on their faces. Claire noticed something odd about Daryl's face.

"Daryl! You're face...it's red!" Daryl looked into side view mirror of his Camry. It looked like a sunburn, but it sure as hell wasn't any regular sunburn. He looked at Claire's face. Hers was burned, too.

**This is my first story on here. I hope there are other CE3K fans out there besides me who will enjoy this. Feel free to let me know what you think. I will be bringing back many old characters in the chapters to come. Michael**

**A note about the 'Special Edition'. This is a revised and expanded version of the same story I posted before. You will find new scenes and expansions on others. All five chapters have been redone in this manner. I hope you will enjoy what I have done and that I have made it better. Please let me know.**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

**ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE**

"Sir? We've got an interesting report from General Franklin over at . They had reports of unidentified flying objects in the sky over LA. Six reports over the last two nights. Franklin scrambled a few jets, but they didn't see anything and got recalled back to the base." Private Ben Burns handed the report to General Thomas Turner.

"Thank you, Private. Dismissed." Turner replied.

Turner looked at the report. So they were coming back, were they? He believed it. He had inherited all of the paperwork and files of the top secret mission some thirty years ago in Wyoming. Lacombe's report said that they were friendly; they meant no harm to us. Perhaps some co-existence could even be managed. Turner scoffed at that part. He was a military man. He knew better than these scientists. He had fought in Korea as a sergeant, and again as a colonel in Vietnam. On his wall were pictures of himself with various personages from these wars, including one with George Patton himself. He had a chest full of medals for bravery and honour.

He knew how it worked. The aliens get you thinking they're friendly and so putting the enemy off their guard. When that happened, they would come in for the kill. And he would be ready.

**CALIFORNIA**

Barry Guiler listened intently into his headphones. He was waiting for that one thing: contact. He scanned the various frequencies they used. All was silent. He was sure that _they _would come back. He'd even managed to get the five note signal into the recording sent out to the outer reaches of space. No success.

He drank his coffee and leaned back in his chair. He looked at the console in front of him. There was the highly sensitive tuner and frequency scanner. His headphones were plugged into this machine. He pressed a button on a computer that played and replayed the recording. On a series of other monitors he could track what was going on in other SETI locations around the world. With the computer directly in front of him he could direct one or all of the giant satellite dishes outside.

He had only vague recollections of his encounter and abduction thirty years ago. He remembered the orange light coming through the keyhole of his front door. He remembered opening that door and being bathed in the light. He wanted to go there. His mother, Jillian slammed the door shut on him. She tried to protect him. But he'd gone through the doggy door and had been taken away in the spaceship. He had no clear memory of being inside it, as if his memory had been wiped. He closed his eyes.

He didn't hear Jane Freemont, his fiancée, enter the room.

"Hey, there, lover," she said. Barry opened his eyes.

She sat down beside him. Jane tucked back her long brown hair. They'd met three years ago, when Barry first joined the SETI program. She was beautiful. Barry hadn't told her of his abduction; he was too scared to. He didn't want to scare her off.

Jane put on her own set of headphones and tuned into a particular frequency. She listened for awhile. She changed the position of the satellites a little to the east.

** AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL, O'HARE INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, CHICAGO **

**A FEW DAYS LATER**

"Control, I'm picking something up on my radar. Can you confirm?" came the voice of a Boeing pilot.

Control looked at his console. 'Roger that. I have an unknown northeast of you about 30 miles out."

"We concur. It's coming closer to us now."

Control couldn't believe what he was seeing now – there were three bogeys in the northeast quadrant now.

"Boeing, this is control. Get out of the area. Go 40 degrees to your left."

"Roger – wait! I see three really bright objects. They're still coming toward us."

The radio crackled and for a moment contact was lost between ground and plane.

"Control! Control! Three objects just went over top of us. I've never seen anything like them."

Control turned to his partner. "Call the air force. See if it's them."

** ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE**

Private Burns buzzed General Turner's office. He had a paper in his hand. "Sir, I have another report you should take a look at. From Chicago this time. More UFOs."

The general ushered him in. He took the paper from the private. He read it.

First Los Angeles, now Chicago. They were moving in an eastward direction. Who was next? Washington D.C.? Just let them. He'd be ready.

Twenty-fours hours later, Private Burns was back in the General's office; his face was flushed with excitement.

"Sir, more of those reports."

"From where?"

"Indiana."

Indiana? What could aliens want there? There were no strategic bases of any kind out there. Maybe it was a _who_ not a what. He mind tried to grasp at some important fact. Something from those old reports. He couldn't remember but he knew someone who would.

"Private Burns, get me Laughlin on the phone."

"Yes sir."

**WASHINGTON D.C. THE PENTAGON**

David Laughlin reviewed the printout of the geology report for the umpteenth time. It was the latest oil survey of Alaska. He looked around his cramped office. He figured it was probably one of the smallest in the building. He kept the top of his desk in a neat and orderly fashion. On the left hand corner of his desk were his Incoming/Outgoing files tray. In the middle of his desk was his Pentium III computer. He filed his report in the filing cabinet that sat in the corner of the room. He saved the Word file on his computer, then began the shutting down procedure. As son he was done here he has plans to visit Lacombe at the hospital. He yawned. Just then a secret service agent stopped at Laughlin's open office door.

"Mr. Laughlin. You have a call on line 101," said.

"Thank you." Laughlin picked up the phone. "Hello? David Laughlin here."

"Laughlin, this is General Turner. Do you know anything of this recent wave of UFO activity?"

He did, in fact, know about them. His friend Robert Conneaut had told him. He decided to tell a half-truth.

"I have heard rumours. Nothing else. What's going on?"

"Tell me about Indiana. Why would they be there? I believe there may be a connection to the event thirty years ago."

Indiana! David's eyes widened. "Um, can you be more specific as to whereabouts in Indiana?"

The line went silent for a moment. "Well, a few of these reports came from the Muncie area."

David nearly fell out of his chair. Muncie! The hometown of Roy Neary! And as he recalled now, The Guiler's, Jillian and her son Barry had been from there, too. Whatever was going on, he was convinced that it was no coincidence. He again dealt in half-truths.

"Well, I recall that there had been reports there at the time. But I don't think..."

"Don't b.s. me, Laughlin. You know something."

"I don't remember anything specific. Some of our detainees that had made it past our security to the mountain that day were from there."

"You're talking about the ones that had the so-called 'visions' of the mountain given to them by the 'visitors'."

"Correct. M. Lacombe wanted to bring them along. He thought that they had a right to be there. Maybe more than we did."

"As I also recall now, some of them escaped from you. They made it. Who were they?"

"I don't remember. It was a very long time ago. I haven't thought about it for some time."

Turner was unimpressed. He knew Laughlin was lying. "Why don't I give you time reconsider your answer. It would be dangerous to lie to me. Maybe Mr. Conneaut will know. He did work with Lacombe after all." Turner hung up.

David scratched his beard. Could this be the event that Lacombe had been hoping for? Was Roy coming back? No matter what, he could not tell the General anything.

Laughlin decided to hang around for awhile.

General Turner exited his office at Andrews. "Get my car. I'm going to the pentagon. And I want Conneaut waiting for me when I arrive." Burns saluted and hurried off to the car pool. The General took his private elevator down to the basement.

Conneaut drank his merlot and turned off his television. He was a small man at only 5' 8", and had thining black hair. He was in his early fifties and still in relatively good shape. He had grey eyes in which you could clearly see the wheels of his mind at work. From his apartment window he could see the Washington Monument and Lincoln's Memorial in the distance. His apartment was sparsely furnished, just a leather couch, a couple of chairs. There was a small sized kitchen, a bedroom and a room he used for an office. He heard a knock at his door.

"Oui! I am coming," he said.

He opened the door to see a man in a black suit and an earpiece sticking out of his ear. He frowned in a no nonsense manor. A secret service man, Conneaut surmised.

"Mr. Conneaut, I am to take you to general Turner's office at the pentagon."

"Now?"

"Yes, Sir. Now."

Conneaut reached for a jacket. "May I ask why?" The man didn't answer. He took that for a 'no'. He followed the man down the elevator (he lived on the eighteenth floor in the building,) and into the car park where another man sat at the wheel keeping the car running. Conneaut was ushered into the back seat. A short drive later and the car pulled into the Pentagon's back entrance. The secret service man escorted Conneaut up three levels to General Turner's office door. He knocked on that door and disappeared down the hall.

"Come in," Turner said. Conneaut went entered the room. This room was smaller than Turner's Andrew's office and had fewer pictures. The general was not alone. He had two other military men with him.

"Gentlemen, something big is going down in Indiana. Robert, what do you know Indiana in regards to UFO activity?"

Conneaut's instincts told him where this was going right off the bat. He knew he had to play it carefully.

"I am not sure what you mean, General."

"Tell me, does 'Muncie' mean anything to you?"

"No."

"Try harder. Muncie, Indiana, Robert. Who lived there thirty years ago?"

"How could I know -" Turner cut him off.

"I've already spoken to David Laughlin. He's already mentioned a few names."

"Neary? He told you of him?"

"No," said Turner smugly, "but you just did." Now Turner remembered. Roy Neary, his name was. Some screwball who'd left his family behind to go joyriding on a spaceship.

Conneaut silently cursed his stupidity. At least he didn't know about the Guilers. Yet.

"I want the team assembled and en route to Indiana for investigation immediately. A jet is standing by on the tarmac."

The 'team' was the special project committee in charge of extra-terrestrial activity. This included an armed military team. On his way out, Conneaut saw Laughlin sitting at his desk. Laughlin looked alarmed at the sight of him. Conneaut nodded at Laughlin and waved his hand.

The signal. Something was up. Something Lacombe would want to know about. He pulled out his cell phone.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**DULLES AIRPORT**

Robert Conneaut was distressed. General Turner was on his phone giving further instructions to the troops to be sent to Muncie, Indiana. He wanted them fully armed.

"General Turner, what is going on? Why do you need those troops? I do not understand. I assure you that if you are worried about these UFOs, you need not be. You have the reports. They mean us no danger."

Was this guy for real? He had all the reports that were made over thirty years ago. Was this a guy looking for a promotion and a pay raise? Conneaut excused himself and walked down the aisle to the back of the plane and into the tiny restroom. He pulled out his cell phone and called Laughlin.

"M. Laughlin. I was thinking today of a song. You have heard of it, perhaps? 'Going Back To Indiana' it was called. You know it? ... Perhaps do you know a Mme. Guiler? In Muncie? I mean to perhaps call her, but I am busy. Perhaps you could? ... tres bien. Merci." Conneaut switched off his phone and returned to his seat. The plane was about to take off.

**CALIFORNIA**

Barry Guiler heard it first. It was faint amongst the static. The five tones. His ears perked up. This was it.

"Jane, are you hearing this?" She nodded. "Good." He used his scanner to pinpoint its location. It was over the mid-west. Indiana, in fact. He played with the computer in front of him a little more. The precise location of the signal was somewhere over his hometown of Muncie.

"Gotta call Mom right away."

**MUNCIE, INDIANA**

Jillian Guiler had never left Muncie. She even still lived in the same house. Her blonde hair was fading and turning white. She hadn't ever married either; she already had her little man. She scrimped and saved to get him to college. She was very proud of Barry.

She rarely thought of that night in Wyoming, at Devil's Tower. She had only one momento of that occasion and that was one of her drawings, that she'd framed. Every once and awhile Roy Neary would cross her mind. She wondered at what things he'd seen and done. Over the last couple of days the front page of the paper was full of UFO accounts. It scared the hell out of her. She'd had enough the last time. She didn't need this again. The phone rang.

"Jillian Guiler?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"David Laughlin. We met thirty three years ago? In Wyoming?"

Of course she remembered him. He and the Frenchman had interviewed her in a trailer after she and Roy had been caught sneaking back through the 'quarantine' area. Afterwards, it was the Frenchman, Lacombe who had confiscated her camera with the pictures on it that she'd taken of the visitors. The camera had been returned to her months later in a box. Hidden in the box was an envelope; in it were copies of her pictures.

"What can I do for you?"

"I need information – have you seen anything unusual? In the skies?"

She hadn't herself, but she'd read the reports in the paper. Last night, she said that she'd had a strong urge to go outside, but she was too scared to. Laughlin asked her to step outside now. She did. At first, she couldn't see anything but stars. Then five of the stars moved in a circular motion. Then they formed the big dipper. The lights came closer to earth in a hurry. She could see a blue light, a red light, a green light, followed by a white and an orange one.

"Oh my God. They're back!" Before Laughlin could get anything more out of her, her phone went dead. So did her electricity. So did everyone else's around her.

Jillian ran into the house and grabbed her car keys. She jumped into her pick up and drove. She had a feeling that she knew right where to go.

In California, Barry's call to his mother went unanswered. Barry was worried. Barry and Jane left the lab and sped to LAX. They were getting the first flight to Indiana.

Jillian drove up the hill to where the road curved. Somewhere just up ahead was the spot that Neary nearly ran over her son. Where she saw the UFOs the first time. There'd been four of them that night. The fourth was a small orange cone-shaped one.

She pulled her truck off to the side of the road just as her car came to a stop. She ran the last quarter mile up the road. As she ran up the crest of the hill she lost sight of the lights for a moment or two. When she reached the top and looked down she was the UFOs making a circle formation.. The blue one, which was shaped like a cube emitted a bright light towards the ground. It temporarily blinded her. The blue cube retracted its' light. The objects spun in their circle formation until they were high in the sky. Once there they formed a line and trailed off into the distant night sky.

All around her now the lights came back on. She heard her truck's engine start up from behind her. In the shadow at the bottom of the hill she could only just make out the shape of a man in the shadows.

He hadn't been there before; she was sure of that. She could not tell much about him yet. His back was to her. He had dark curly hair, just starting to go grey at the edges. He wore a red jumpsuit with an American flag emblem on his shoulder. He turned around. Jillian almost fainted when she saw his face. It was Roy Neary – and he hadn't aged a day.

Elsewhere in Muncie, Ronnie Kennedy, formerly Neary, stepped outside the front door of her three story red brick home. The lights had gone out. She saw that her whole street was out. Her husband Drew joined her. They'd met and married two years after she'd been told by government officials that her then husband Roy Neary had been killed in Montana trying to break through the security barriers during the 'gas leak' scare at Devil's Tower, where the train had rolled over.

Drew had been good to her. He had taken them into his home. He loved her and her three children. He had been a good father to them. He scratched his bald head.

"Looks like everything's out," he said.

Ronnie glanced at her husband and looked up at the stars. She suddenly had a very strange feeling. An impossible one, but it was there nonetheless.


	4. Chapter 4

**Almost gave up on this because I didn't think people were reading it; but I see that people actually are reading this story, so I'll return to it now. Reviews would be nice.**

**CHAPTER 4**

Roy Neary stared at Jillian Guiler. Jillian Guiler stared at Roy Neary.

"Jillian?" he asked.

"Yes."

He looked around him. He remembered this place. "How long have I been gone for?"

"Thirty-three years. This is 2010."

"2010! A whole new century, I can't believe it. He looked down towards the lights of the city in the valley. The lights had come back on now. He didn't remember there being so many lights, or so the city limits coming out as far as it was now.

They heard sirens coming up the hill in their direction. Police. Jillian instinctively grabbed Roy and dragged him off the road. They ducked into the bushes. Roy marvelled at the police cars as they passed by. He had never seen cars like those before. Jillian was worried. What was she supposed to do now? Roy couldn't just stay here. For now, she took Roy to her home in her truck.

"Jillian," he asked suddenly, "Where's Ronnie? Where's my wife? My kids?"

Jillian didn't know. But she knew who might. She picked up her cell phone and pressed re-dial. Roy marvelled at the gadget in her hand.

"_That's _a phone? With no phone jacks? No wires? How does it work?"

"By satellites, I think. I never really understood this stuff. Barry could tell you."

"Reminds me of Star Trek. You remember the communicators they used? Beam me up, Scotty. Say, how is the kid these days?"

"He's not a kid anymore. He's thirty-six now. And he's engaged. He went to college and now he works for SETI."

"Who?"

"Sorry. SETI has to do with sending messages out into space and listening for a response. From _them_, or anyone else who's up there." The phone rang on the other end.

Laughlin paced his office. He was nervous. What had happened? The phone rang. Laughlin picked up on the second ring. "Jillian...you what?...You did...He's back? You're kidding! This is incredible. Listen. Keep him there. There's a friend of mine on his way now, Mr. Robert Conneaut. I'll try to get him to contact you."

Roy was back! It was unbelievable. Lacombe would want to know about this right away. Lacombe would know what to do. He dialled the hospital.

"I need M. Claude Lacombe's room please...yes, I know it's late...it's important...thank you."

Lacombe picked up. "Allo?"

"M. Lacombe, it's David Laughlin. There's something you should know. Roy Neary is back!"

The line went silent. "M. Lacombe?"

"Oui. Listen to me. Get Conneaut. Get him to Neary, or Neary to him."

"That might be tricky. He's on his way to Indiana with General Turner and his military."

"Do not let General Turner get to Neary at all costs. We do not know what he may do to him. Do your best. And keep me informed, s'il vous plait." Lacombe hung up the phone. He had been asleep, but he was too excited to go back to sleep now. He turned on the T.V. instead and waited.

Laughlin called Conneaut and told him about Roy. Conneaut was excited, but could not show it, for fear it might arouse the suspicions of the general. Neary! He had longed for years for a chance to meet this man. The jet had just touched down on the runway, and Conneaut and Turner were preparing to disembark.

Laughlin finished his call; he got up out of his chair, turned out his office light and headed for home. All he could do was wait. And he could do that more comfortably back home in his apartment.

At five-thirty in the morning a Boeing from California came to a stop on the runway of Terre Haute International Airport in Indiana. It rolled into the hangar and its passengers disembarked. Barry Guiler and Jane Freemont were among them. Barry made a note of the official looking jet they passed on the way to their arrivals gate. While Jane collected the luggage, Barry went to the Hertz rental car desk to get their transportation.

Barry asked for whatever was available; he wasn't interested in being picky. The male attendant entered Barry's information into the computer. While he was waiting for the printout of a contract, the man said, "You wouldn't believe the things I've seen these past few nights."

"Oh?" Barry feigned un-interest, but he was really all ears.

"I seen lights in the sky. Multi-colored ones, and they were planes either. They did things I've never seen done before."

"Amazing," said Barry. Jane had by now caught up to Barry at the counter. He and Jane looked at each other. Jane could see worry in his eyes.

Barry got the keys to a blue Toyota Camry. Barry drove. It took them another two and a half hours to reach his old hometown of Muncie. They pulled into the familiar driveway. His mother's pickup was out front. That was good. Barry parked the car and Jane grabbed their baggage. Barry strode in the door.

"Mom?" he called out.

"Barry?" she answered. He let out a sigh of relief. Jillian greeted him from the kitchen. She was not alone, though. There was a man with her. The men regarded each other for a moment. Suddenly Barry had a clear memory from thirty-three years ago. This man had gone onto the spaceship! This man was Roy Neary!

For Roy's part, he nearly didn't recognize the young man before him. He'd heard his name called out – Barry - but it was hard to connect the memory of the boy he knew with this man. It made him think again of his own children – Toby, Brant and Sophie. They would be all grown up too, wouldn't they? Would they remember him?

A black sedan was waiting for Conneaut and the general. Driving it was a bulky looking man with a black suit. They got in. An army jeep pulled up behind them. In that jeep were four regular army troops. They all carried hefty looking guns. Conneaut eyed them warily. This was going too far. The driver of the jeep exited the vehicle and marched over to Turner's door.

"We had reports last evening of lights in the sky. Five bogeys over in the northwest. We went to investigate, but we didn't find anything. Where would you like us to go?"

"I'd like to pay a visit to this Guiler woman. I want to know what she knows."

"Yes, Sir!" The man snapped off a salute and returned to the jeep.

Before they could roll, one of Turner's aides rushed up to the Sedan. Turner rolled down his tinted window and the aide whispered something into his ear. Turner turned a sour glance toward Conneaut. He said something back to the aide.

Conneaut winced at the stare. He felt a trickle of sweat run down his forhead. He felt sure his call from Laughlin had been caught. He was right.

"Mr. Conneaut. I understand you've had contact with Laughlin regarding this case that you haven't shared with me. Tell me about this Roy Neary. I understand he's been returned to us."


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm glad to see that people are reading this after all. It's been awhile since my last entry, but I've been working on other original writing projects. As I said before reviews are always welcome. Thank you. This is the last of the 'Special edition' revised chapters. Let me know what you think of the story as it stands now with the changes. Now on with the show.**

**CHAPTER 5**

"Mr. Neary, it's a pleasure," said Barry extending his hand.

Roy took it and they shook hands. "Me too," he replied. "Last time I saw you, you weren't two feet high. I nearly ran you over on that hill."

Barry had forgotten that part. He remembered now a yellow truck barrelling around the curve while he was standing in the middle of the road calling out to his new 'friends'. His mother had run out and snatched him in the nick of time.

"What is he talking about?" asked Jane. Barry and Jillian looked at each other. The look in each other's eyes said that it was time she knew the truth. They spent the next fifteen minutes reliving the past. The only Barry left out was his own abduction experience. He simply wasn't ready to tell he that part.

Jane was wide-eyed the whole time. Roy occasionally added a little something where necessary, but for the most part he had remained silent. He was intrigued by the flat screen tv and by the machine beside it. He noticed the shiny discs that lay on top of it. He was about to ask about them when they heard a knock at the door. Barry took Roy to his old room up the stairs and hid him behind the door.

Jillian answered the door. She saw a short dark haired man with grey eyes. He looked worried and excited at the same time. Excited to be here, but worried about the circumstances which precipitated it.

"Bonjour, my name is Robert Conneaut." Before she could greet him four army men in fatigues and man with general's stars pushed past.

"Where is he, Mrs. Guiler?" General Turner demanded.

"I afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Jillian replied.

"I am talking about Roy Neary. We know you picked him up. We know _they _were here. That man needs to be de-briefed immediately.

Conneaut could only shrug an apology as the military men searched her house. They searched Jillian's room, the rec room, her sketching room, (she still drew occasionally), the downstairs laundry room. The general noticed the sketch of devil's tower that adorned the wall. Jillian and Conneaut found themselves in the kitchen on their own. He said nothing, but smiled kindly. Jillian trusted him. She couldn't say why, but she did. Conneaut picked up a pen off the counter and wrote something down on a scrap piece of paper. He crumpled the paper and handed it to Jillian. She didn't look at it right then, she just put it in her pocket. The general passed through the kitchen again and made his way into the next room. Jane was in the living room, alone. Barry was nowhere to be seen.

One of the men charged up the stairs and began opening every door with caution. He banged down the door of Barry's room and drew out his gun. He searched it. The room was empty. Jillian and Jane stared at each other for a moment. Where had they gone? The man came down the stairs empty handed.

General Turner questioned Jillian again. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," she answered, which was now the honest truth.

"If you refuse to co-operate with me I can have you court marshalled and brought up on charges!"

"General Turner, if you please," Conneaut broke in, "Clearly, the lady, she does not know."

"Stay out of this! You're in it just as much as she is as far as I'm concerned. Now where is he?"

"I don't know," Jillian repeated. "You know, I don't appreciate you and your men tearing apart my house. I didn't see a warrant or anything. I think that you should leave right now!"

Conneaut smiled. Technically speaking, she was right, of course. They should have gotten a warrant from the presiding judge first. Turner grumbled then ordered his men out, but not before promising that he would be back. The men piled into the cars from which they'd arrived in and pulled away.

Five minutes later. Jane's cell phone rang.

"Are they gone?" It was Barry.

"Yes!" Jane gasped. "Where are you?"

"Hiding in the woods out back."

"But how? How did you get back down?"

"Through the window. We climbed down the drain pipe. I used to do that all the time when I was a kid. We're not coming back to the house. We're going to cut through these woods and get into the city. We'll find a motel room and call you." Barry hung up.

Barry and Roy were well hidden by the thick trunks of the trees, but they could still see the departing sedan and jeep. They stayed still until they could no longer see their headlights. Roy stripped out of his orange jumpsuit. Underneath he wore the same clothes he'd worn thirty three years ago.

"You need a change of clothes," said Barry. They quick-timed it through the thick brush. Roy panted behind him. He tripped over a root that stuck up out of the ground. He hadn't run like this in years. When they reached the edge of the other side of the woods, they saw the lights of the city. It looked about half a mile away yet. Barry saw the sign of a Motel 6. "Bingo," he said.

Barry asked for a room, while Roy stayed outside. The manager was dubious about giving these two men a room, considering they had no luggage. And the older guy was dressed funny. He let them have a room anyway, what the hell. Who was he to judge?

Barry took the key and the two men entered room number five. Barry used his cell again. He didn't want to run the risk of using the motel phone in case they were being tracked. He dialled Jillian's cell this time. He told them where they were and he asked Jane to bring a change of clothes for Roy. Roy once again marvelled at the wide flat screen television. How could it possibly work? And what was Hi-def?

There was a cheap cd stereo unit sitting on a table. Roy picked it up and turned it this way and that. He pressed the eject button and a the CD tray popped out. He looked up at Barry, perplexed. "There's nowhere for records on this thing."

"What?"

"You know, records. Vinyl records."

"Oh, right. Sorry. They don't make them much anymore. Everything is on compact disc. No cassette tapes, either."

"No eight tracks? Oh man!"

Barry was about to explain the digital science of CDs, when they heard the knocking at their door. Roy hid in the washroom.

Barry slowly opened the door and was relieved to see Jane and his mother. It had taken the ladies all of five minutes to get the room. Roy changed into some of Barry's clothes that were a little more up to date. Now all they had to do was get in contact with Conneaut without the military knowing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Roy was now dressed in an Abercrombie & Finch sweater and Levis jeans. Lastly, he borrowed Barry's razor and shaved. He felt a little cleaner now.

"So now what?" asked Jane.

Jillian remembered the scrap of paper. She pulled it out of her pocket and flattened it on a little table. They gathered around the table and read its contents. It was an address. ' army Barracks, Rd. Barry rummaged through a small oak desk in the corner of the motel room, hoping to find a map. In the second drawer of the desk, he did.

Barry sat down on the neatly made bed and opened it up. "Okay. Turner and his goons don't know me. They didn't see me at the house. I could go to this place and snoop around and try to find this guy." Jillian described Conneaut as best she could remember.

"Barry, no," said Jane. "What if something happened to you? I love you too much to lose you."

"You won't," Barry promised. "I'll be careful."

**Grissom Joint Air Reserve Base, Army Barracks, near Kokomo, Indiana**

Conneaut felt like a caged bear. He knew Neary had been at that house. He had been so close to meeting him and yet so far. He didn't dare touch his cell phone again. He had an idea of using a public payphone, but he was behind barbed wire fences in this base. And it was heavily guarded. Turner was busy with his aides elsewhere in another one of these steel buildings. He heard the sound of jeeps whizzing back and forth. Turner had the place jumping.

He paced around his tiny room. The room was one of many made out of a converted hangar. Steel walls had been erected to divide up the cavernous space into the many rooms it now contained. There were rooms on the left and right and running lengthwise all the way up and down was a centre hallway. He had a cot for a bed, complete with army green blanket. A very small desk with no drawers was aligned to the left side wall. There were outlets to plug your computer into, but don't even think about internet access. That was restricted.

Conneaut ventured out into this hallway and headed for the barracks door. He was stopped by an armed no nonsense guard.

"If you please, I would like a breath of fresh air," Conneaut explained.

The guard studied him for a moment. "I guess that would be all right." He stepped aside. Conneaut opened the door to the morning sun. The base was located in the middle of vast open grasslands, well away from any city. He kept his hands in his pockets and wandered aimlessly around this base. His saw MIG fighters being gassed up. He saw tanks and heavy artillery being cleaned and prepped. He scoffed. What a bunch of fools, he thought.

Outside the barracks, Barry Guiler hid behind a clump of bushes. He peeked out and saw a busy base gearing up for something big. He also saw a lone man with his hands in his pockets. He was short and dark haired. This was the man. Barry needed to get his attention. What he needed was a rock or something he could throw in Conneaut's direction. He looked around and found a medium sized rock. Barry checked first to make sure no one was looking, and then he heaved the rock towards Conneaut. Missed. Barry found another and threw that one. Strike! It landed just in front of Conneaut. He did a quick look to the left and to the right, and seeing no one bent down to pick up the rock. Conneaut peered in the direction of the rock's trajectory to see a young blonde haired man looking back at him.

Conneaut slowly and nonchalantly made his way over to the fence line. Barry stood up.

"Bonjour, my friend," said Conneaut.

"Hi. My name is Guiler. Jillian is my mother." The Frenchman's eyes widened at his recognition of the name. "Listen. We have Roy at the Motel Six, a few blocks from here. Can you come?"

"Mon ami, I would very much like to, but I cannot. Not without zem knowing."

Yes, that was a problem. How could he get out unnoticed? There was the old laundry cart routine, but there was no guarantee that there would even be any. Barry noticed the canvas covered trucks coming in and out. Could he sneak onto one of those? Maybe. Or suppose he got his hands on a uniform? If he had a uniform on, he could hop onto the back of one of those trucks, and no one would think twice about it. Conneaut considered this. It had possibilities. But how would he get the uniform? If he was a certain 'archaeologist' who name was the same as Barry's home state, he sneak up behind a guy, punch him across the jaw to knock him out and strip the uniform right off his back. But Conneaut was not that man and he couldn't do that.

He looked around at his environment. He saw nothing but dirt, grass, the odd stone, and a mud puddle. The mud puddle gave him an idea. Outside the base a quarter mile down was an intersection and a set of street lights. On the corner of that intersection was a bank.

"Go to that bank, M. Guiler. I will join you shortly. I have an idea."

Conneaut walked away in the general direction of the puddle. When he drew nearer to it, he feigned a trip and landed in the mud, dirtying his clothes. Barry watched, fascinated. He understood now. Conneaut would need a change of clothes now; he wouldn't have brought any with him. They would hand him a uniform to change into. Brilliant.

Conneaut cursed just for show and returned to the barracks. He explained his situation to the guard. The guard nodded and said that he'd see what he could do. Conneaut returned to his room. A short while later a private cameto him with a set of army fatigues. Conneaut thanked him profusely. In no time at all, Conneaut was wearing the uniform. It was a perfect fit. He walked back past the guard again. He thanked the guard on his way back out. The guard nodded and let him out.

One of those trucks pulled out of a hangar. No one paid any attention to the man getting into the back of it. The truck pulled up to the security personnel at the gate. After a short discussion, the truck was cleared to leave. The truck drove out of the base. It slowed down at the lights. Conneaut popped out. When the truck came to a complete stop, he jumped out. He dashed into the bank's parking lot. Barry waved from his blue Camry. Conneaut nodded and got into the car.

He let out a long sigh of relief. He'd been terrified the whole time; if he was being truthful to himself, he'd have to admit that it had also been kind of exciting. He'd never done anything like that before. He gratefully shook Barry's hand.

"Merci, my friend."

"Not a problem," Barry replied. "Now let's go see Roy."

**There's the new chapter. What do you think? I had a hard time figuring a way to get Conneaut out.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Barry Guiler and Robert Conneaut got out of the car. They walked quickly across the parking lot to the safety of their rented room. Barry knocked on the door. Jane answered. She leapt into his arms. Roy was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank goodness you're safe!" she cried.

"Hey, no sweat," Barry replied with a wink.

Jillian shook Conneaut's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you – uh – again."

Conneaut waved her off. "Please Mme. Guiler, the pleasure is mine. Roy Neary, he is here?"

Roy, upon hearing his name, emerged from the bathroom. Conneaut and Neary finally looked each other in the eye. Finally, after all these years. After all the stories Conneaut had heard about this man, here he was. Conneaut looked on him with reverent awe.

"M. Neary," he said, taking Roy's hand in his and shaking it. "It is an honour."

"Uh, thanks."

"Please, tell me what it was like. What did you see? What did you do?"

Neary scratched his head and sat down on the corner of the bed. "I don't quite know how to describe everything. It doesn't even seem like thirty years. Seems more like a week at most. I remember walking up the ramp and feeling weightless as I got to the top; then I was floating. There must have been hundreds of aliens. And not just one or two kinds, either. Jillian, do you remember the stick alien?"

Jillian nodded. Barry remembered, too. 'Stick' was the right word. It was long and skinny and long skinny arms resembling twigs.

"There were more of those, maybe a dozen. There were a few hundred of the smaller ones like the ones that took me aboard the ship, with the big heads and big black eyes. And then there were a larger size of that same kind. They were both white-skinned. And then there were these grey, almost human-looking ones. I think they were the engineers of the outfit, because they were the ones controlling the ship. Although what it was exactly they were controlling I don't know. Thirty years and I still don't know how that ship was flown. The taller white ones were in charge.

There were catwalks all around the circumference of the ship and nothing in the middle of it. Just a huge open space, like an airplane hanger, only thirty times bigger. These aliens all stood around the catwalk as I was brought in. It was the tall ones that spoke to me."

"How, M. Neary?"

"In my head. It scared the hell out of me the first time he did it. He told me that I was welcome there and that I was among friends."

"What was the ship made of?"

"Some kind of metal alloy - but nothing like here on earth. I grabbed one of the catwalk rails to keep from floating to the roof of the ship and I could squeeze it like an orange. My hand left indents but they disappeared again. It was cold to touch when the air in the ship was warm. I know enough to know that space is supposed to be cold, but this ship was warm."

"When the ship pulled away did you feel anything?"

"Not a thing. It was like sliding on ice – smooth. Not even a single vibration."

"Was there some kind of engine? What about a propulsion system?"

"It didn't have an engine, not like one of our car engines. The tall greys had something like our keyboards that were connected into the ship. They used sequences of notes as instructions. At least, that was my impression. There were eight of them doing this, all at equal distances. You could see which ones were working because their work stations were lit up. If they were going to the west only the aliens on the left were lit up. But if they were going northeast, then the two northeast stations were lit up. Also, there were another group of eight greys and these two groups would take turns."

"The five tones?" asked Barry.

"Yeah, them. And other variations, too. And sometimes it was six notes and sometimes only four."

"What happened in space? Where did you go?" Conneaut asked.

"I can't tell you exactly, I'm afraid. I'm no astrologer. I don't know much about stars or galaxies, but I do know we passed by Pluto in a matter of hours. I- "

Jillian interrupted him. "I hate to break this up, but it won't take long for the army to figure out that Mr. Conneaut here is gone. I think we should move."

As badly as Conneaut wanted to continue this discussion, he knew Jillian was right. "M. Neary, how can I be of assistance to you?"

"First, I want to see my wife and family. Second, I have a message to be told to the public. Do you know where my family is?"

Conneaut nodded. "We have been keeping track of them ever since you left. One of Lacombe's ideas at the time was that if you were returned, they may choose to return you directly to your family. David Laughlin has this information. I will contact him presently."

**GRISSOM AIR BASE**

General Turner fumed. "How the hell could that man have gotten out? It's impossible! Round up some men and search every inch of this place immediately!"

He had just sent Private Ben Burns to the barracks to get Conneaut. Burns returned out of breath claiming that Conneaut was nowhere to be seen! He had search the whole barracks quarters and he wasn't there. He searched the perimeter of the fence line and found nothing. Burns' assumption was that Conneaut had escaped.

Turner stomped outside and lit a cigar while awaited results from the search. Three teams of five were dispatched to check every crack and every corner of the base. They all turned up empty.

"So how did he get out, Sir?" Burns asked.

Turner chomped down on his cigar. "Obviously, he had help on the outside. Now think, Private. Who would this likely to be?"

"The Guilers!"

"Very good, soldier."

"Should we send troops back out to the Guiler's house?" Burns asked.

Turner shook his head. "Negative, Private. They won't return there. Use your head. Where would you go?"

"Well, Sir, I suppose I'd go to a motel or something. A small out of the way one."

Turner smiled. "Exactly! Send some men out to ask around the outlaying motels in this area. Oh, and while we're at it, set up a tap on David Laughlin's phone. Conneaut will call him eventually. He has to. Then we'll nail him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the long delay readers, but I have been working on another project – the self-publishing of my first novel! Been busy researching companies and finding an editor. I have an editor who will start on it next week. I'll tell you some of the plot if you're interested with the next chapter. Anyway, on with chapter 8. Hopefully this one moves along a little faster. The last two were kind of slow paced.**

**Chapter 8**

**WASHINGTON DC**

David Laughlin hadn't slept. How could he the way recent events were unfolding. He also expected a call from Jillian and/or Robert Conneaut. He walked around the bar counter in the middle of his kitchen and picked up the coffee pot from beside the stove. He poured a cup into his mug and drank it. As he did, the phone rang. He gulped the last mouthful down quick and grabbed the phone. He answered on the third ring.

"Laughlin here," he said.

"M. Laughlin! I have with me an old friend. He would like to know the whereabouts of his family. I have a recollection that we kept tabs on them, yes?"

"Robert! Is he with you now?" Laughlin asked excitedly.

"Oui. But we must move quickly. I have escaped from under the generals's thumb, as you say. But he will come after us I am afraid. What can you tell us?"

Laughlin fired up his laptop. They did indeed keep tabs on the Neary family. One of the possible scenarios the group had worked up on trying to anticipate Neary's eventual return was that he might be dropped off near a family member. He opened up a file folder on his desktop. The first file was Ronnie's.

"You'd better break it to him gently. Ronnie Neary is now Ronnie Kennedy. Married a Drew Kennedy in 1981. He's an insurance advisor. The army told her that Roy was dead. She moved on. She's still in Muncie. On Andrew Street."

Laughlin opened up the next file: Toby Neary.

"Toby Neary is forty years old now. He has a wife, Jean and three kids, aged 13, 10, and 7. He's in New York now. Works as a programmer for a software company. He hates his father. Never forgave him for his crazy behaviour over the UFO or his leaving them. I doubt Toby will want anything to do with Roy.

Let's see, Brant Neary is thirty-seven. He's thirty-seven. He also has a wife. Her name is Sandy. They have two kids, a son and daughter. He's in Alabama. He never totally bought the death story. I spoke to him once about his father. I just said I was a friend and that I was sorry to hear of his death. I asked him about aliens and UFOs and he didn't totally discount the idea.

Finally we have Sophie. She's thirty-five and engaged to be married. Oh – she's pregnant. Roy'll like that. She lives in Muncie still. She's a grade school teacher. Her fiancée is also a teacher. I managed to speak to her once a few years ago. She's doesn't remember much of Roy; she was only five at the time he left. She kind of remembers Roy designing a mashed potato mountain out of his dinner."

"Merci, my friend. I need one more thing. M. Neary has a message. Can you set something up? A press conference perhaps?"

Laughlin paused a moment. That might not be so easy. How do you convince the press to hear some guy's UFO story? "I can try. They may not be very receptive. Where would it be?"

Conneaut didn't know yet. The he had a wonderful idea. "Tell zem Wyoming at Devil's Tower."

"That's crazy!"

Conneaut didn't think so. It would make Roy's story more believable if they could be at the actual landing site. And if the runway was still there that would be proof. Laughlin still wasn't completely convinced, but he would set it up any way. But when would it be? Conneaut didn't know. Family matters first. Laughlin gave him four addresses and phone numbers and signed off.

**MOTEL SIX MUNCIE INDIANA**

Roy paced the room. "Well? Does he know where my wife is?" Conneaut told him to sit down. Conneaut read from the notes he'd made during his phone conversation.

Roy couldn't believe it. He looked sick. "They told her I was dead? The bastards! They should have told her the truth." Conneaut kept reading.

Neary wasn't surprised about Toby. But three kids! Wow! And two more from Brant and one on the way by Sophie. Six in total.

"Imagine that," he said in wonderment, "I'm a grandfather. Pretty cool stuff."

Barry and Jane were seated near the picture window. The curtains were pulled shut, but he occasionally stole glances at the outside world. He looked out now. Jane, who was holding his hand, felt him stiffen.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Guys, I hate to break it up, but a dark coloured car just pulled into the parking lot. The driver is wearing a black suit and is wearing shades on a cloudy day. I think he means business. We gotta go. Like now."

The group stood up. They slowly and in orderly fashion filed out the door and squeezed into Jillian's pick-up. Jillian pulled out of her parking spot and drove through the lot to the exit. The dark car followed behind at a distance.

**GRISSOM AIR BASE**

Private Burns flew into General Turner's office. "Sir, we've got them!" he announced. "We traced Conneaut's cell phone signal. They've just pulled out of a Motel Six. Our man is on them."

"Conneaut was with them?"

"Yes, sir. Our man made visual contact."

"Excellent. Send out another car and keep me posted." The general chewed on his cigar. _Got 'em!_ He thought.

Jillian slowed down in front of her house, but didn't stop. Barry and Jane jumped out and headed for the rental SUV in the driveway. They were going to split up and make things difficult for the dark car.

They would both head to McMurray Street, but take alternate routes to get there. The driver wasn't fooled one bit. He stuck to Jillian's little car like glue. Jillian called Barry to tell him. Barry did a U-turn in the middle of the street he was on and headed for Jillian's direction. Barry watched his mother's car go by then swerved to get in between her and the dark car. The body of Barry's SUV hid Jillian's smaller pick-up.

Along the way Barry let other motorists fall in behind to put more space between them and their follower. Jillian made her move with a sudden left. The driver didn't see it. Barry kept going straight. He had no choice but to follow.

Jane noticed the second car out of her side view mirror. "We've got a problem," she said.

Barry glanced at his side view mirror. He made a sudden decision. He made a quick move into a driveway, backed out in the opposite direction of his followers and sped off doing 100 miles an hour. Then he made two quick turns in a row for good measure. It was his good fortune that McMurray Street was right ahead of them.

He saw his mother's pick-up parked alongside a red-brick house. He saw Roy knock on the door. A middle-aged woman, who had once been blonde, and was now going white answered it and promptly fainted.

To Be Continued...


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello again:**

** I am sorry for the looong delay in getting back to this story. Thanks to the reviewer who keeps saying 'make more!' **

** My brother was killed in July in a biking accident, so my mind hasn't been on Roy Neary and his aliens for a bit. I'm sure you can appreciate that. He always rode his bike to and from work. He got hit by truck who was in a no truck zone about ten minutes from his home.**

** I****also****lost****everything****on****my****computer****when****my****laptop****died.****Something****to****do****with****the****hard****drive.****I****have****been****slowly****recovering****my****written****works****from****my****other****computer****and****this****story****from****this****site****by****a****little****copying****and****pasting.****I****lost****a****civil****war****drama****I****was****near****to****finishing,****but****fortunately****my****other****computer****had****at****least****a****little****bit****of****it.****Some****of****it****is****still****on****the****original****pads****of****paper****I****had****written****it****on,****but****i****don't****have****all****of****them,****so****some****stuff****I****have****to****re-create.****That's****kept****me****busy****too.**

** Finally,****some****good****news.****In****the****wake****of****my****brother's****death****i****decided****to****do****something****about****getting****my****writing****published.****To****that****end****I****am****pleased****to****announce****the****publishing****of****my****new****e-book,****Miss****Candace!****You****can****download****a****free****sample****and****buy****it****here:****.com/profile/view/willowbypub****all****the****popular****formats****can****be****downloaded****there****(mobi,****epub,****pdf,****etc).****Take****a****look.****It****has****been****distributed****by****Smashwords****to****apple****itunes,****sony****store,****Kobo,****but****hasn't****shown****up****on****their****sites****yet.****It****should****also****be****on****Amazon****by****the****end****of****this****year.**

** Lastly, I would like to comment to the reviewer who said that based on the Neary kids' ages that Ronnie should be dead. I took some offence to this because I am 36 and my mother is 56. I know people who are in their late fifties who parents are still alive. And Terri Garr (who played Ronnie in the movie) is still alive and well.**

** Enough of this. Let's get on with it...**

**Chapter****9**

Ronnie was first to the door when she heard the bell.

"Just a moment," she called out. She opened the door.

"Hi Ronnie," said an all too familiar voice.

Her eyes grew wide as her senses overwhelmed her. She was looking at her dead husband and he was not only alive but still looking exactly the same as she had last seen him. It was too much. She fainted.

Conneaut caught her as she went down. Drew raced to the doorway. Together they got Ronnie to the living room couch and laid her down. Ronnie's eyes flew open.

"Drew! I had the most awful dream. The door bell rang and when I answered it I saw my -" she stopped in mid-sentence and looked around at the strange group that surrounded her. Two women – one older one younger, and three men – again, one older and one younger – and the third – the third was Roy Neary her deceased husband.

Drew poured her a small glass of brandy to steady her nerves.

Conneaut stepped forward to introduce the group to her. Ronnie was sure she'd heard the name Guiler before. It might have been Roy himself that had mentioned it back then.

'You can't be here," she said to Roy, "it's impossible. They told us you were dead. An army man came and said that you'd trespassed on a quarantine area of Wyoming and had been killed by a gas leak."

"So I gathered," said Roy. "Look, there was no leak. There wasn't any train derailment. It was a setup by the government. They made contact that night with aliens. They landed and returned some people they'd taken, including this young gentleman here. He was three. Then they pick_me_ to go back with them. There was a line-up of people and they chose me. That's where I've been – with them. Incredible, isn't it?"

Ronnie sat up. "Did you really, or did you just run off on us?"

"Look at me. I haven't aged a day. What does that tell you? Could this happen if I'd just run off?"

"I don't know. I don't know."

Ronnie turned her gaze to Barry, who was wishing he was anywhere but where he was. Jane was also looking at him. Was she really hearing this? Now he had no choice but to tell her, but not here.

"Tell me about our kids, Ronnie, please.

Ronnie got off the couch and stood up. She walked slowly to the red-brick fireplace. The mntlepiece was stone. On the mantel were recent pictures of her kids, their spouses, and their children. Roy joined her.

"Brant has grown into a fine young man. So has Toby. And Sophie – she's beautiful, like you when we were that young. I've missed a lot, haven't I?"

Ronnie turned bitter. "How could you leave us lke that? Were those aliens that much more important than us? Where were you when Brant and Toby were growing into men? Where were you when Toby and Nancy's firstborn arrived? Somewhere in the stars?"

"I don't know what to say, except I'm sorry. My thinking was crazy then, I know. They planted this thing in my head and I couldn't get it out. If I could have, I would have, I swear it."

"Damn you Roy Neary! How dare you come into my home after all these years like nothing's happened. Get out! Get out of our lives." Ronnie broke down in tears.

Drew stepped in between them. "You'd better do as she says, Neary."

"Ronnie, please, give me a chance..."

Conneaut broke in. 'If you please, we must keep moving. No doubt the Colonel will know where we are. Those cars will return."

Roy nodded. One last thing first. "Will you tell them that I was here and that I'd like to see them? We're going to Wyoming – back to where they took me – Devil's Tower. They can find me there."

"Maybe. I'll think about it. If _they_ask you to, will you run off with them again? Back to your spaceship?" Ronnie asked sarcastically.

"No. Not this time. I promise. I have to do one thing and then I will be free."

"M. Neary, please," Conneaut said.

Drew put his arms around his wife. She returned his hold. Roy sagged, defeated. She would never tell the kids. Gillian, Barry and Jane who had been silent witnesses the whole time walked out the front door. Conneaut and Neary were last.

Barry and Jane returned to their blue Camry. Gillian and Roy hopped into the pick-up. Conneaut stopped to talk with Barry.

"We must leave Indiana. We need a plane and all ze airports will be looking for us here."

Barry agreed. "I think Cincinnati, Ohio is our best bet. It's south east of here. I know the way, so follow me."

"Very well, my friend." Conneaut got into the back seat of the pick-up. Gillian pulled out and backed up so that Barry could get out and take the lead.

As he drove, Barry could feel Jane's gaze on him. He glanced over at her. "I guess you're waiting for an explanation, aren't you."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "I have just found out that my fiancee was abducted by aliens, so, yes, I'm a little concerned."

"All right, then, here goes..."

He began when he awoke that night to sounds in the kitchen and what he saw there, and how he'd followed them into the woods. He remembered standing in the middle of the road when a yellow truck (Neary's) came racing around the corner and his mother scooping him up at the last minute. He remembered a few days later when the lights came to his house. They promised him toys ("Toys!" he'd said). He remembered the light coming in through the front door. After that the knives and other utensils in the kitchen flew off the racks. In her panic, she'd let Barry go and he went for the doggy door. There was a tug of war between her and them and they had won. He remembered seeing his house from high in the sky. After that, he didn't remember much until it was time to go and the ramp opened up and he ran down it and into his mother's arms.

Jane stared incredulously at him. "That really happened?"

"It did." Barry looked straight ahead at the road before him. Jane didn't say anything more. She needed to think and take it all in before she did or said anything else.

The pick-up and the Camry took side roads as much as they could. Conneaut reasoned that the highways and interstates would be being watched closely by both the army and possibly state troopers, if the general decided to get them involved. It cost the group some extra time. The border lay ahead of them. They pulled up behind the other cars waiting to go through the toll booths. Barry took one lane and Gillian took the one beside him. They inched up slowly. It was too slow for Barry's liking.

Gillian got to her booth first. The tool collector paused, looked at something on a screen and back at Gillian. He spoke into a walkie-talkie. Gillian gunned it, speeding away. Barry followed suit. He heard sirens from behind him, and he saw the flashing lights of two trooper cars.

"Uh oh. Trouble."

"Jane pointed out a road sign pointing in the direction of the airport. "That way! Right!" she cried. Barry veered to the right. Barry passed a few cars in an effort to get some breathing room.

"Do you see Mom?" he asked. Jane looked in every direction. She couldn't see her future mother-in-law's pick-up any where. "I hope she's all right," he said.

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello again. Sorry I have taken a long time between chapters, but I work in a retail store and there is perhaps no busier place than a retail store at Christmas. I've had extra hours that last few months and now that I have time again I hope to write a few chapters now. **

**Also, I would like to direct your attention to my profile where you will see a description of my e-book 'Miss Candace' and the additional places where you can now buy it from as well as a website. Also you will find a coupon there to receive a discount. I see from my ebook Dashboard that a lot of you have downloaded free samples (thanks) but have not purchased. Hopefully this coupon entices some of you to buy my book. Okay, let's get to it…**

**Chapter 10**

**Claude Lacombe's Hospital Room, Washington DC**

David Laughlin knocked on Claude Lacombe's door.

"Come in, please," he answered. Laughlin opened the door; his old friend looked bad, he was gaunt, pale, and very weak. Lacombe's breakfast tray was still beside him and he could see that it had hardly been touched. But that didn't keep the grin off Laughlin's face.

"You won't believe it, M. Lacombe! Neary's going back to Wyoming – back to the 'dark side of the moon,' as we used to call it."

"Devil's Tower? Why? Please tell me," Lacombe said excitedly. Some colour came to his cheeks now with the excitement. He tried to sit up but couldn't. Laughlin helped him.

"He wants a press conference. He has something to say. I don't know what it's about. I got the feeling that he hopes our friends will arrive."

Lacombe grasped Laughlin's hand. "You must take me," he whispered. "We must be zere to see zis."

David shook his head. "That's impossible. They won't let me and the trip would likely kill you." He could see life coming back into Claude's eyes, but it wasn't enough. The man was so frail.

"Please, my friend. I am going to die anyway. I should like to do it my way. I must see Neary again – I must hear what happened. For years I have dreamed of his return and the stories he would tell. Get me some clothes and find a wheelchair."

Laughlin could see that he wasn't going to win this. He looked around the room. He found a slim metal locker against a wall. It was locked with a key lock. Lacombe gave him the key and Laughlin put it into the lock and turned it. The lock popped open. Inside he found pants and a shirt and a jacket that hadn't been worn in months. He shook out each article of clothing.

"Quickly now, help me dress." There was one problem with this: Lacombe had wires connected to his body. There was the IV solution, wires going to his heart and chest, and one for blood pressure. If Laughlin pulled those, alarms would sound. The pants he could put on now, but the shirt would have to wait until last. He went out to the hallway. Just a few feet down the hall was the nurses' station. There was one nurse on duty, sitting behind a computer. She was surrounded by a chest high counter, apart from one swing-door opening. Around the corner from her was an unused wheelchair. Laughlin grabbed it; he walked slowly by the nurse and into Lacombe's room.

Laughlin pulled out the IV needle first. He put Lacombe's shirt on and now all he had to do was unattach the wires and button him up and they were free. Laughlin held his breath as he pulled them. Beeping echoed all around the room.

"Go, my friend, Go!" Lacombe commanded. Laughlin was momentarily surprised by the strength in his voice. He walked out of the room as if he owned the place. The nurse he'd seen earlier at the station rushed in.

"What do think you're doing?" she demanded.

"I am taking my friend outside for some fresh air."

"But you can't –" she started.

"Watch me," said Laughlin and he strode down the hall, pushing Lacombe in the chair.

**Indiana –Ohio Border Crossing**

Barry Guiler searched frantically for his mother. She had to be up ahead somewhere. He saw another road sign showing the way to the airport. The sign told them to get off at the next exit. Barry put on his turning light as if he was going to turn off. He edged over to the right just enough to throw off his pursuers. At the last minute he veered and kept going straight. His pursuers took the exit before they had a chance to realize what Barry had done.

He smiled to himself. He would take the next exit, go back the way he came and re-enter the interstate before the James M. Cox International Airport exit, and when he came to it, he would turn off for real this time. But where was his mother?

Gillian had taken the exit. She went up the exit ramp and joined the flow of traffic on the interstate leading to the airport. State Trooper cars and unmarked cars followed behind her. Conneaut started to worry.

"We must lose them!" he said.

"I'm working on it." Truth was, she really didn't have a clue. She was just a middle class working woman from Muncie, Indiana. She didn't know about car chases down interstates. She managed to pass a few cars and to change lines while she thought about it. As she was thinking she noticed a billboard advertising a Howard Johnson's hotel in Dayton, which happened to have an airport shuttle service. Now that gave her an idea. She got off the interstate and headed for the hotel. It would mean losing the pick-up, but that was okay.

Next to the hotel was a parking garage. She pulled a quick turn into the entrance. She had to stop at a ticket booth to receive the timed ticket to place on her dashboard. She had cars in front of in line in front of her; she mentally willed them to go faster. She finally got to the front and took her ticket from the automatic ticket dispenser and sped up the ramp in front of her. She drove up two levels and found a spot near some doors. Seeing no one behind them, the group exited the car and made for the double glass doors. Directly inside on their left was a dull-silver elevator which had seen better days. They piled in. Jillian read the elevator's display panel. It seemed that there was a walkway directly into the hotel on the fifth level. Gillian pressed "5".

The elevator's doors opened up to reveal a faux marble floor. The walkway was a bridge-like structure and glassed-in on both sides. They did not run, but walked with purpose into the hotel. They stopped when they reached the lobby. The floors were faux marble. In the middle of the floor was a blue carpeted area where there were couches and chairs for guests who were perhaps waiting to check in or check out. The concierge desk looked like real wood, but it likely wasn't. Jillian asked an available desk clerk about the shuttle. The female clerk informed her that it left every hour on the hour. The next one was arriving back at the hotel in fifteen minutes. The cost was twenty dollars a person. Jillian paid with cash. She had her hands on her debit card only to realize it could leave a trail for the government people to follow. In this case, cash was better.

Conneaut paced the floor as they waited. He didn't like waiting. Roy kept his eye on the walkway from which they'd come. Jillian didn't take her eyes off the front window where the shuttle would be.

"Come on, Come on, Come on," Conneaut whispered. He heard the wonderful sound of an engine and the whine of brakes. The shuttle had arrived. The group bee-lined it out the front double doors and presented their tickets to the driver who then ushered them into the shuttle. Gillian saw out of the corner of her eye a familiar dark coloured car idling out front of the parking garage. At precisely four o'clock, the shuttle pulled away. The car remained behind.

The shuttle lumbered into the departures area of the airport. The place was bustling with activity. Business-types talked into their cell phones on the way to their gates. A family was saying goodbye to their teenage daughter, who was loaded with suitcases. She was probably off to college. Many had the bored looks of people who had been waiting too long in their lines. Bags were weighed and tagged and sent off down conveyer belts.

Jillian looked for Barry and Jane. Conneaut and Neary scanned the crowds. "There!" Neary cried excitedly.

He found the twosome standing by a post under a sign with directions to "Gates D – H". Barry waved when he caught sight of his mother.

Jillian hugged Barry, then Jane. "Thank God you two are all right! Have you found any flights to Wyoming?"

"Yeah, we have, but we're not leaving from here." Barry decided to throw one last curveball to the people that were following them. "We're going to fly out of Cincinnati instead."

To be continued…


	11. Chapter 11

**Before we begin chapter 11, I would just like to call your attention to my new fanfic for M*A*S*H (in the TV Category). It's called 'Letters '68 aka The Erin Problem'. At the title suggests the story is set in 1968 and BJ needs Hawkeye's help dealing with Erin (18 by this time) and the Viet Nam War. Head on over and check it out. If you know of any MASH fans on here, tell them too.**

**P.S. I have just noticed a mistake back in chapter 8. Neary's daughter's name is Sylvia, not Sophie. **

**Chapter 11**

**Cincinnati, Ohio, Airport**

Barry handed each person in their group their boarding passes. There were a few raised eyebrows by security as not one of them had a piece of luggage. They did not appear, however, to have any interest in them otherwise. Like every other passenger, they took their shoes off and placed them in a bucket on a conveyor belt as well as everything that was in their pockets. The buckets went through the scanners. No problems. They walked through the metal detectors. Nobody beeped.

They all breathed a sigh of relief when they finally got to their gate. They had a few hours' wait yet, so they happily wolfed down sandwiches and Cokes at a small deli. They were all exhausted and hoped to get an hour or so of sleep after takeoff.

**Grissom Joint Air Reserve Base, Army Barracks, near Kokomo, Indiana**

General Thomas Turner was pissed. He slammed down the phone. He'd just received a call from his operatives in Ohio. Neary and his lot had somehow given them the slip. He slammed his fist onto his oak desk.

"Damn!"

His aide, Private Burns burst into the general's office.

"Give me some good news, Private."

Turner's eyes were furrowed and his eyes were slits. That meant he was really mad. Burns gulped. Sometimes, Turner made him nervous.

"It may be, Sir. Our informant at the hospital just sent us a text regarding old Claude Lacombe and David Laughlin. Seems Mr. Laughlin up and took Lacombe out of the hospital."

"And?"

"And they got into a car. A government issued car with a tracker on it. All we have to do is turn it on and our informant can have them followed."

Turner grinned. "That is good news. Turn it on and tell our 'friend' to follow them."

Burns saluted. "Yes, Sir."

**Interstate in **

Knowing that he would never be able to get Lacombe on a plane, Laughlin made the decision to drive. It would not be easy, but if he drove straight through he could be there in just a few days. He'd need sleep, though, and Lacombe was in no condition to drive.

Lacombe sat beside him, reclined in the passenger seat. He spent most of his time sleeping. Just as well on this endless stream of concrete and steel he was driving on. He rubbed his weary eyes.

Beneath the car, near the muffler, a tiny red light began to flash and beep…

**Washington DC, Hospital parking garage**

Private Ben Burns' informant, who happened to be a dressed as janitor, heard his cell phone beep. He had a message. He flipped the phone open and read it. "Unit activated. Proceed." The man stripped off the janitor's uniform; underneath he wore blue jeans and a polo shirt. He was just another fella on the road with somewhere to go now.

On his phone he had a secret receiver app to track the beacon. They were in West Virginia, going in a westward direction. He jumped into his unmarked navy Chevrolet. They had a good head start, but he knew a few short cuts that could make up some time. He revved up the Chevy's engine and gunned it down the interstate at 110 miles per hour.

**Muncie, Indiana The Kennedy Home**

Sylvia and her fiancée, Ron, had come to her mother's house for dinner. They did this once a week. She was worried tonight. Her mother had called her at the school where she taught to remind her to bring some ice cream for the dessert. There had been something odd about her voice. She seemed distracted by something. She had asked her mother what was bothering her, but Ronnie wouldn't answer.

Immediately on hanging up, she called her brother Brant. She relayed to him her worries. He called Ronnie, and after talking to her, he called Sylvia back.

"You're right, something's got her shaken. Try to find out what is tonight and call me back. I'll be waiting," he'd said.

Now Sylvia was sitting with her mother on the couch. Her mind was clearly elsewhere. In mid-sentence, she'd forget what she was saying. She nearly burned the pork chops.

"Mom, what is the matter with you?"

"Nothing," Ronnie replied.

"That's b.s., Mom and you know it. What's bothering you?"

"Nothing," Ronnie repeated. She got up and went to the fireplace. She looked at an old picture of her kids taken around the time of Roy's 'death'. She started to cry.

"Mom?"

"Your father was here," she whispered.

Sylvia shook her head. "That's impossible, and you know that."

"No it isn't. He was here today. He didn't die like we were told." Ronnie let it all out. She told Sylvia everything.

Sylvia was cold with shock. Ron held her close for warmth. She rubbed her bulging belly. It was so hard to take in. And yet, he was her, in this room. A man she hardly remembered, her father. He was en route to Wyoming now. Maybe he was already there. She made up her mind. She wanted to speak to him. She wanted to know why he left them. Why some aliens were more important than his own children or his wife. How about the child that she was about to have? Would he stay to see his grandchild being born or would he leave with _them_ again? She was angry and hurt and needed answers.

"You don't have to, Sylvia," Ron said. "Leave him be. He doesn't deserve you or this baby."

"Yes, I do. I need to know," she said. "I'm going to Wyoming."

She called Brant that night and told him her plans. He was coming, too. She would be going by train, since at 8 months pregnant, she would not be allowed to fly there. Brant was going to do the same. He would drive up to Muncie, pick her up, and go to the nearest train station. He tried to talk to Toby, but didn't give a damn if he was alive or not. He had nothing to say to him.

All roads it seemed led to Wyoming.


	12. Chapter 12

**Here it is: the big Finale, part 1. Fade to black, roll credits and all that. Thank you to all who read this and commented. You can read another of my stories on this site's sister site for original fiction. It's called ****Baby Cadence On The Doorstep. **

**Chapter 12**

**Near Devil's Tower, Wyoming (Tuesday)**

While Lacombe and Laughlin and two of Neary's grown children were making their way to Wyoming, Roy and his group were already there. They made it safely out of the airport and car rental agency. Jane had been picked to rent the car, as she was the least likely to be recognized. She was driving now as they passed through the countryside.

Roy and Jillian knew these winding roads that cut through acres and acres of ranch country. The last time they had been here there were "dead" sheep and cattle lined the roads. In reality they had been drugged by a sleep aerosol as part of the government cover up plan to evacuate the area around the landmark they saw next: Devil's Tower. It still looked the same as it had thirty years ago.

The top was still flat, the circumference was ridged, and forest and large rocks still surrounded it. Roy and Jillian still remembered how they escaped their government captors and ran for the monument, making their way through brush and climbing over boulders. They lost their third party, Larry from Los Angeles, to the sleeping gas being sprayed from the helicopter.

He told this story to his fellow passengers. He recalled how they had trouble on an incline with the helicopter closing in. He grabbed Jillian's outstretched hand and she pulled him up and out of harm's way. From there, they climbed down the rocks to the other side. That's where they saw the lit up runway and the temporary government buildings that housed audio recording equipment and video cameras. And there were satellites trained towards the sky. Above all of that was a massive light board attached to a keyboard.

All of this was new to Robert Conneaut. He'd heard the rest of this story from Lacombe and Laughlin – about the lightshow, the arrival of the mothership, the return of the abductees and Roy's own "abduction" and lift off. It was an amazing story. But to hear it from Roy and Jillian's perspective was like hearing for the first time again.

Barry's perspective was quite different. He had been aboard the mothership when it arrived at Devil's Tower. He remembered seeing it from space. From the top, it resembled a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. He remembered now that even though the ship had flipped itself around, he had stayed upright the whole time because of his weightlessness. He recalled seeing the people on the ground get bigger and bigger the closer they got. He'd even been able to make out his mother in amongst all the sunglasses-wearing men. He had never had any fear of the aliens. They'd been nothing but friendly towards him.

Jane listened to the stories coming out of the back seat while she drove. She didn't know how to take it. The man she had plans to marry was talking about being in a spaceship with aliens! She wondered if she could live side by side with this man knowing what she now knew. And suppose his story somehow got out – what would their lives be like? What about their future children?

They turned away from Devil's Tower towards the nearest big city and motel. Along the way Jane stopped in at a Best Buy store and purchased a new phone at Conneaut's request. He wanted to contact Laughlin, but he didn't trust his phone.

Conneaut took the phone out of its plastic wrappings and plugged it into the van. He went through the activation process to set it up for use. Barry used his laptop to put some time on it using his debit card. (Neary was fascinated with the concept of the debit card. He also had a million questions about the laptop and this thing Barry called the internet.) Conneaut could have done it over the phone, but a credit card was too easily traced.

He sent Laughlin a simple text message: Get new phone. Txt when activated. RC. He also enclosed the new phone's number. Now they waited.

Jane located a Super 8 Motel and got two adjoining rooms. She picked up some late lunch for them at the attached restaurant. They waited for Laughlin.

**The Interstate in West Virginia, heading towards Ohio**

Laughlin knew he was being followed. The navy Chevy had been trailing him all day. There were a few cars between them, but he knew enough to know that this guy was government. He would let him keep following for the time being; lull him into a sense of over confidence and guard might slip. His phone beeped. He handed it over to Lacombe.

Lacombe flipped the Nokia phone open and read the message. Laughlin used his GPS to find the nearest electronics shop. He found a Futureshop just off the next exit. He had to lose his tail first. Using the car behind him as cover, Laughlin slipped into the far lane. At the last minute, he turned onto the exit ramp.

The Chevy was blocked by the rush hour traffic from darting into the far lane and onto the ramp. Now he'd have to get off at the next exit and turn back and hope that he'd find them. The general would not be happy.

Laughlin repeated the same procedure as Conneaut had earlier. He sent his text. The phone rang a minute later.

"Hello, my friend," he heard Conneaut say.

"Robert, good to hear your voice. Where are you? Is everyone all right?"

"We are all fine. We are in Wyoming. We await you."

"We're on our way as well. I can't get him on a plane, so we're driving."

"I do not understand. Who do you have with you?"

"A friend of yours. It's Lacombe. I broke him out of the hospital. We had a tail earlier, but we lost him."

"Claude? Mon Dieu! How is he?"

"I swear he's actually getting stronger. It's going to take us a few days yet to reach you."

My friend, let me make a suggestion. Take a train. It will save you much time, and you cannot be followed. Just remember to use cash for your tickets."

"I'll take that under advisement. Thanks. Listen, if we get a train, I'll let you know when it arrives. In the meantime, While we're getting there I can be gathering the press together."

"That is perfection, mon ami. We will wait." Conneaut clicked off.

Laughlin used his GPS to direct him to Station, the closest train terminal to their location. In the station's parking lot, he assisted Lacombe out of the car and into a wheelchair. He purchased two one way tickets on an Amtrak train to Moorcroft, Wyoming, the location of Devil's Tower.

They had an hour wait for the westbound train to roll in. It came five minutes early and Laughlin got Lacombe boarded and comfortable in his seat. Lacombe set the headrest back a little and settled down to sleep. Night had fallen by the time the train pulled out of the station. Laughlin pulled out his phone and dialed Conneaut.

"We should be there in two days, unless we run into difficulties. Let's see, today is Tuesday. We'll get there on Thursday. We can have the press conference on Friday. Does that suit you guys?"

"Friday would be just fine. And what of location?" Conneaut asked.

"How about the Tower itself?"

Conneaut loved the idea. Show them where it all happened. "We will see you Thursday. We should not speak to each other again until you arrive."

"Agreed." The men said their goodbyes.

**Illinois**

Sylvia and Brant's train was having troubles. They had been stopped on the tracks for 50 minutes with some kind of engine trouble. They were running again, but only at half speed until they could get to the station for further repairs.

She was not impressed and feeling impatient. She felt that any delay might cost her minutes with her father, should he decide to return to space. She prayed for another westward train to come along. She hoped that they might be able to switch trains if the fix was going to take a long time.

The train limped into the station. A voice over the PA advised passengers to stay in the terminal and await further instructions. Brant helped his sister down the steps of the train. Inside, Sylvia paced the floor.

"How long is this going to take?" she muttered.

"Syl, sit down. You're going to give yourself high blood pressure if you keep doing that, and then I'll wind up taking you to the hospital and you'll never get to Wyoming."

"I can't wait!"

"You have to. Sit." He took his sister's hand and plopped her down into the seat next to him.

Three hours passed while they waited. Sylvia slept on Brant's shoulder. The PA announced the arrival of another westbound train. He woke Sylvia up. "Here comes that train you wanted."

Sylvia was wide awake in a moment. She went over to the attendant's desk.

"I have to get on that train that's coming, please. It's urgent. Is there any way my brother and I can switch trains? It's going to the same place, isn't it?"

"It is. I'll see if there's any room. If there is, I think we can work something out." He turned away from her to face his monitor. He punched a few keys, read his screen and announced that he did indeed had a few seats available. He used a CB to talk with the conductor of the incoming train.

"He says that you can come aboard. I'll just initial your tickets for you and you'll be all set."

"Thank you, Sir," Sylvia said excitedly. "Come on, Brant! We've got a train to catch."

They waited outside. When the train came they showed the conductor their signed tickets and he let on. A few other smart passengers had overheard Sylvia's request and did the same. Brant and Sylvia walked down the corridor. There were two men facing them on their left. One was asleep and the other awake, looking out the window. The sleeping man looked very ill, but Brant knew him alright. It was Lacombe, who'd come and spoken to him about his father a few years ago. Surely this wasn't a coincidence that they were going the same way at the same time. He remembered the other man, as well.

"Mr. Laughlin, hello," he said.

Laughlin was startled to see Brant and Sylvia Neary standing before him.

"Brant! My God! What are you doing here?"

Sylvia spoke first. "We're going to see our father. I want to see him. I want to talk to him."

"Does he know you're coming?"

"No," Brant said.

"Please, sit down." Laughlin motioned to the two seats opposite them. Lacombe stirred.

"What's the matter with him?" Sylvia asked.

"Terminal brain cancer. It's a matter of time now. He wants to see your Dad again as well."

"I'm sorry," she said.

Laughlin suggested that they all get some rest. They lowered the lights above them and went to sleep.

**Wednesday**

**Grissom Air Force Base**

General Thomas Turner was more than mad. Not only had Conneaut and company evaded him, Laughlin had done the same with his tail. He summoned Private Burns.

"Burns! Get me a plane ready. We're going to Wyoming. Even in the army, you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself. Also, I want the commander of the base out there. I want him to assemble his people and have them ready at my command."

"Yes Sir!" Burns saluted and picked up the phone at his desk.

Turner was more than convinced that a close encounter was about to happen. _They_ were coming back. And he was going to show them who were the supreme beings around here. And while he was at it, he'd lock that lunatic Roy Neary up for good.

Burns returned. "I have a plane ready for takeoff, General, Sir. The flight plan is being logged as we speak. And General McKewan sends his regards. He will be expecting you."

"Excellent, Private. We'll pack a duffle and go right away."

While the westbound train rolled its way through Illinois, heading into Iowa, General Turner was boarding his private plane. Laughlin was on the phone corralling as much media as he could. He had reporters from the three major networks and CNN, he had Reuters and Associated Press. There was a reporter from England's Daily Mail newspaper in New York on another assignment, and he was dispatched to Wyoming.

Lacombe was ecstatic to see the two Nearys when he awoke that morning. He enjoyed having people to converse with other than just his doctors and nurses and Laughlin. Sylvia had a few hard questions for him, such as why they lied and said that her father was dead. Lacombe explained that it had not been his decision. That had been taken out of his hands by the government bureaucrats. As always, they were adamant that the incident should be buried away and kept secret. Lacombe wanted to write a book about the event, but those same bureaucrats threatened him with jail if he did. He had nothing but distain for the way things had been covered up and hidden. He was confident that with Roy back, all would be revealed and people would finally know what happened that day.

What she also couldn't understand was how her father's first encounter the night of the black outs when he was en route to Cornbread made him change so completely.

Lacombe answered her as best he could. "Perhaps, Mademoiselle, it was the need to know. To have seen something so wonderful that you can scarcely believe your eyes. That you must, at all costs, see it once more to truly believe, to know that it was real; that you did not imagine it. All my life I devoted to this study. Ever since the first interviews I conducted with abductees, and pictures I saw. I spoke not only to people like your father, but policemen, doctors, even politicians. People whose credibility was without question. The more research I did, the more convinced I became of the reality that we had been visited. But I had never seen any of the phenomena myself. Never had I seen lights in the sky. I was desperate to see them. We knew we were onto something when we found Flight 19 in the Sonora Desert in Mexico. I, too, became more obsessed than ever. The five notes were a major breakthrough for us. It was, to my mind, them telling us how we should communicate with them. We played the notes over and over sending them deep into space. They responded, as you know, with the co-ordinates that lead us to Devil's Tower. The rest of course you know. And you must not underestimate the power of the vision he had been given. We cannot know precisely what that did to his brain function."

"I have this memory of him building a mountain out of mashed potatoes. He was obsessed with that shape. I also recall when we returned home after being told about his death. We opened the front door to see this large wires mesh, clay and dirt model of that tower right in the middle of our living room. Brant remembers better."

"Mom went right back out of the house. She couldn't bear to look at it. She paid some neighbourhood kids to dismantle it. She was totally embarrassed. I hated my father for it at the time."

"I understand the need to know – but he left us behind! He probably didn't even think about us or how we'd feel if he was gone," Sylvia said angrily.

"Do not upset yourself, ma fille, it would be bad for the baby, I believe, yes?"

Sylvia nodded. "You're right."

**Air Force Base, Wyoming**

It was late afternoon when the general's plan landed at the base. General McKewan was waiting on the landing strip.

"General Turner, a pleasure to meet you," he said as he extended his hand. Turner took it and patted him on the back.

"Your men are about to make history. I hope their ready for it."

"My men are always ready."

"I want your tanks ready to roll. I want fighter jets ready for launch at a moment's notice. I want a few armed jeeps. I will take command in the field when the time comes. I want an unmarked car and plain clothes man to patrol all the motels around here. I want Neary and his group found, but not interfered with. I want to catch them unguarded. My man Burns has a description of all the parties involved."

"Right away, General." McKewan called for a man named Palmer and gave him his orders. Palmer spoke briefly with private Burns before he changed into civilian clothes and drove away from the base in a black sedan.

Palmer, who was actually a lieutenant, drove around the streets of Moorcroft. He stopped for a while outside a Howard Johnson's and a Holiday Inn. He looked in restaurant windows. He saw no sign of them. There was a Super 8 ahead on the left. Palmer decided that were it him, he would probably stay in a cheap place like this.

He waited in the parking lot for an hour. He was rewarded by the sight of a brown haired young woman merging cautiously from one of the rooms. Burns had said there was a young woman like this amongst them. She was going into the restaurant.

He got out of his car and wandered casually into the restaurant behind her. He sat down in a booth and listened to her order. She ordered burgers and fries for five people. It was her alright. The one named Jane. He returned to his car and called the Generals.

General Taylor was grinning. He had them now. They were in his sights and he never missed. He ordered Lt. Palmer to stay with them like glue and report on their movements.


End file.
